


Lilac

by tattooeddevil



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 07:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tattooeddevil/pseuds/tattooeddevil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>June is not a good time for Sam, but why? When he finds out, Dean wishes he had never asked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lilac

It took him a few years to see the pattern, but there it is. It's June 15th and Sam's been off for a few days. Just like last year and the year before and the year before that. Dean's not entirely sure how far back it goes, but he is determined to find out. Sam being off usually means he needs to be more alert and more on his toes, but that's not the main reason he needs to find out what's going on with Sam. He **hates** seeing his little brother down in the dumps like he is right now and he'll do anything to make him feel better.

Like clockwork, every year around June 10th, Sam starts to withdraw from the world. It's a slow process, not something obvious unless you're looking real close. And Dean is looking **real** close. That's how he sees the change in Sam come June 10 and on. He sleeps late, gets up way past nine when he's usually up and at 'em at seven. Dark circles start to form around his eyes, his skin pales, making him look sick. He stops smiling. His shoulders slump and he does his ever loving best to shrink away and hide from the world. By June 17, he's stopped talking completely, apart from the few short replies he'll at least give Dean. Dean stopped believing Sam's _"I'm fine, just tired"_ a long time ago.

This year is no different. By June 18, Sam's gone mute. Short nods or jerks of his head is all Sam's giving him. Of course Dean's wondered what was up with Sam, but he never picked up on the pattern of Sam's depressions. Now that he does, he needs to know. He needs to know what Sam is hiding, why he's so off his game and what Dean can do to help. He needs to find something he can do to help. But for that to happen, Sam needs to start talking.

Sam Winchester doesn't talk when he doesn't want to. Dean Winchester is as stubborn as a mule though. And maybe a little dirty, but with Sam plastered against his side, drunk on beers Dean kept plying him with - a mute Sam can't say no to him offering beer - he can't feel guilty about it. If it gets Sam to talk, it's just means to an end.

He takes the gamble and prods Sam a little to get his attention.

"Hey Sammy?"

Sam mumbles something unintelligible and Dean takes is as his cue to go on. Sam hasn't made a sound is days, surely this is a good sign?

"Wanna tell me what's going on with you?"

"No."

Not that he expected anything else, but he was hoping it would be easier than this.

"How about you tell me anyway?"

It stays quiet for a long time. Dean's almost sure he's not gonna get anything out of Sam after all, when Sam slowly peels himself from Dean's side and slumps against the other side of the rickety couch in their current motel room. He curls in on himself, face drawn, hands fidgeting with the seam of his jeans. He looks every bit the sad teenager he used to be when Dad and Dean left on a hunt and Sam couldn't go. Only about ten times worse.

"I'm just tired."

Dean almost laughs at Sam's obvious lie.

"Bullshit. Come on, Sam, talk to me. Let me help."

That gets through to Sam. He snorts and turns sad eyes on Dean.

"You can't help."

Sam turns his eyes back to the floor, the dejected gesture breaking Dean's heart. He doesn't want to push, not when it's obviously hurting Sam so much to even think about it, but he has to know. He has to do something.

"I can try?"

Another long silence follows Dean question, both of them unmoving on the couch. Sam staring at his hands, Dean afraid to scare Sam off. When Sam speaks next, his voice is so soft and sad, Dean has to strain his ears to hear.

"Jess... She was... June 23rd, we were supposed to..."

Dean can see the tears falling from Sam's eyes and his heart breaks again. He thought Sam had given the Jess situation a place and moved on, mostly. But seeing him now, so broken and upset, he's not so sure that's the case. Dean scoots closer and nudges Sam with his knee.

"You were supposed to what, Sammy?"

He knows Sam bought her a ring, knows he was planning on proposing to her when he got back from that hunt all those years ago. Maybe that's what this is about? Maybe June 23rd was supposed to be their wedding date? It doesn't explain why Sam is so utterly destroyed though, Dean's pretty sure Sam wouldn't be this broken up about that. But what then?

Sam sighs resigned and buries his face in his hands. Everything in his posture screams he doesn't want to talk about it, it hurts too much, and Dean wants to rage and rant at whatever it is that's making his little brother feel this way. Kill whatever it is that's fucking tearing his Sammy apart. But when Sam forces out the words through his sobs, Dean wishes he had never asked.

"She was ... p-pregnant. She ... was pregnant with ... o-our baby... It was s-s-supposed to ... to have been b-born ... o-on June 23rd... We were gonna be parents and then I got her killed! I killed her and our baby!"

Sam wails and it's all Dean can take. Fuck chick flick moments; he pulls Sam into his arms, head against his chest and just holds him. Sam clings to his shirt, hot tears dampening the fabric, but Dean doesn't feel it. All he feels is a cold settle in him, gripping his heart, squeezing it so hard he has trouble breathing. Jess was pregnant with Sam's baby. He was going to be an uncle, dad was going to be a grandfather. Sam was going to be a father. Everything he ever wanted.

He rubs Sam's back, never feeling more inadequate in his life. There's nothing he can do to help, just like Sam said. Nothing he can do to take the hurt away, nothing to get Jess and the baby back, nothing to give Sam his life back. All he can do is hold his sobbing little brother while his whole world breaks and crumbles, fucking shatters. He's never felt more useless, helpless and angry. Angry at the son of a bitch that did this to his brother. Him being dead already is almost a disappointment, he wants nothing more than to bring that bastard back and torture him to death. Angry at Sam for still feeling guilty, for still believing he killed Jess, but he can't stay mad with Sam, not anymore. Jess was pregnant and about to give Sam everything he ever wanted and now she is dead.

Sam falls asleep when he exhausts himself crying. Dean drags the moldy blanket from the back of the couch to cover Sam's body and carefully wipes the tear stains from Sam's cheeks. He lays awake for hours, just watching Sam sleep, praying to a God he knows doesn't exist for something he knows they'll never get. But he has to try, because he just broke his little brother's world all over again and he needs to fix it.


End file.
